Waiting On An Angel
by the.clairvoyance
Summary: Don Flack is waiting on an angel. Spoilers for season 5 and 6.


**Waiting on an Angel**

**Disclaimer: **All I want for Christmas is for Angell to be _alive_, and I don't think that needs a spoiler alert on it because if you don't know by _now _you really aren't too involved in CSI: NY, now are ya? xD

**Pairing:** Flack/Angell, Flangell.

**Genre:** Angst/Romance.

**Rating:** K+ because I used two naughty words =O.

**Spoilers:** Post season 5 and the beginning of season 6.

**Summary:** Don Flack is waiting on an angel. Spoilers for season 5 and 6.

**A/N:** So I got this idea kinda like an hour ago and just started writing. The original concept would be an all paragraphs version of Flack seeing Angell reappearing in a dream like trance however it somehow got turned into this Enjoy!

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A sliver of golden moonlight halos around her head and dark, dark, hair frames the side of her face as well as her forehead and just where the cream of her cleavage would stop. Her skin, unhealthily pallor, is fluorescent in the midnight light bringing even more attention to her darkened brown eyes, shadows dragged down her cheeks from the bags under her eyes. She as the weakest limbs that are flimsily wrought and pathetically limp, so limp in fact it is amazing she is even human at all. There are thin lines around her once slick lips, now instead brittle and cold; they can longer form words or even a single breath.

This is how Flack sees her when his neck snaps in response to the breeze blowing by his windowpane; surely he had heard _something _more than the wind this time. It is past two o'clock in the morning but before three, he has slept a culminating four hours and he isn't sure if he will get any more. Flack sighs but his breath is shallow and weak, he wonders how long it will be until he will fall back to sleep this time. Insomnia had never once bothered the detective since he had never experienced the misfortune of the condition, sure he had restless sleeps but never had his restlessness kept him from sleep, from the subconscious fantasy that seemed so much more desirable then the current semi-conscious reality.

On the nights when the moon was big and wide and full above the city Flack could recall draping comforter over comforter on the hardwood floor of the bedroom, placing pillows parallel to the window so that one could lie on their back and see the moon diving through the curtains. However it had never been his idea to do that and on these occasional cold nights he could not help but wish he had come up with such a unique and strangely beautiful concept but that had always been her thing, something that both surprised and pleased him. He could remember one arm stretched across his chest, a hand over his heart, and another arm snaked around his neck, fingers tangled in his short yet messy hair.

If he squeezed his eyes closed tight enough--like he had done so many times as a young boy when he had tried really hard to remember something or had used it as a tactic to drown out his annoying siblings--and repositioned himself perfectly he could sometimes remember the feel of her naked breasts against his side and her knee splayed between his spread open legs, her lips mouthing hushed words against his jaw line. When the memory became it's freshest, so truly believable that Flack could swear he could see her tiny toes curl from the cold he would open his eyes to find warm tears stinging his flushed cheeks.

He never believed one could cry themselves to sleep before that the night in the morgue, that day he saw her bleeding profusely, her lips tattered and unable to produce a plea for help, energy seeping from her body into his so that his whole self was weighed down so much that he could not move quick enough to the ambulance let alone quick enough for him to save her. Now when he collapsed on the bed in a fit of exhaustion, his bones and brain to wiped out to carry him any further either physically or in thought he would feel the tears spring from his eyes, as if all his repressed feelings from the day could simply escape his worn out body by running down his face and pooling in the indent of the pillow where her head had lain only weeks before.

Flack didn't want to think about it anymore. He didn't want to cry anymore. He didn't even want to think of it, or her, or anything anymore if it was going to ruin him. So instead her picked himself up with all the effort he could and found his reserve in the back of his refrigerator. The first shot went down awkwardly, hesitantly, but not unwelcome by any means. The second followed suit, though this time with a degree less nervousness and instead replaced with something the exhausted detective could only describe as determinedness. By the fifth drink Flack could feel his head pounding with a marginal headache, the insides of his cheeks as well as his throat burning with a rawness of open wounds and whiskey, and try as he might he could not concentrate on any one thing in the whole apartment.

Smiling drunkenly, Flack turned towards the windowpane once more and breathed a heavy breath at the vision before him. The moon, as wide as the world, and the stars twinkling faintly, out shone and under appreciated in comparison to the gleaming pale light that took up most of the sky. For the briefest moment a stray thought danced in and out of his swirling mind; _what is so fucking captivating about the goddamn moon anyway? _It didn't matter, nothing did. She was gone so he might as well be too, right?

Suddenly everything his sister did and said made perfect sense, even though very little else did in his current state of mind, and he could not resist the urge to reach for the near empty bottle once more. If he couldn't find his angel in the evening sky, looking over him like she promised she would always do, always be with him, than maybe he'd have a better chance finding her at the bottom of an alcoholic ocean. He swallowed, head thrown back, and let the whiskey burn his throat until the tears stopped stinging his dulled blue eyes.

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**A/N: **Well there you go! Officially finished this about 4 minutes ago so I would have to say about 2:34am, Sunday December 20th 2009 :D. Hoped you all liked it enough to review, hell even if you didn't like tell me what I did wrong, I'm a little masochistic that way xD.


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